ponderatio

The tales of the supreme deity come from the various religions of the first world. Previously, mortal men believed the Supreme Unity in one person. In every faith they glorified him and called him by different names. In the second world there is some neutrality in belief.

“For every child, having appeared on our Earth, is only a shell of its biases”.

In the third world:

“As you were born you were greedy, vindictive and frivolous, you will not see an easy life, nor flowers in the garden of the Supreme Unity. May these children be cursed and are destined to bear a heavy cross. And their souls will not be cleansed until they find peace. When the colour of the soul turns pale, the eye, the judgment will be supreme. And the creator of the Earth will come down to administer justice over sinful children and creatures born not according to the laws of V.E.”

— W. E, ' said the mentor in a lisping voice, staring into the yellowed parchment. Anger him, he will come down to us. Threatening the young brats, the old man frowned at me, looking out for me from a bunch of stupid relatives. Feeling guilty about this morning’s transgression, I looked reluctantly down. What happened today is unforgivable, although he deliberately led me to the negative qualities of man. Although we are different from the people of the first world, we also know how to feel, like the higher subjects of V.E. But somehow it is so devalued, growing a creature that is born in us. I did not choose to be born a vile, vindictive witch with ugly warts all over my face. Although my cousin somehow tends to this stereotype. But not by me. My mother, born of an immaculate union, had to go there. Yes, there. To the highest degree of hell, which was called the fourth world. Where there are the most powerful immortals, balancing our world. And the world of others also by the way. Especially the first. Although the borders between the worlds closed a few thousand years ago, there is still an error of the new law. Some untalented creatures of our creator still live among boring people.

“If it had happened so that foolish rules have disappeared, and everyone lived in harmony, knowing that myths that people invent still exist!”

Stupid, isn’t it? Now, my story is that every living thing that walks on two legs, that has such a different spectrum of emotion, can’t live with others. Even if it comes with two legs and a bloody tail. I mean succubi and incubus. These guys won’t change anything. They may belong to the Fourth World, but they’re still swarming for some reason. And one of those things managed to make a friendly alliance with the witch. Although Nebiros Junior is also conceived in a pure relationship, he is quite sweet. Even for the lower rank of the demon. As he was saying, the three-way’s not going to get any better. His father is a bloody field marshal, his mother a fucking succubus, and a poor first-rate man. So that you understand our hierarchy, let me put it simply: The first world is mortal men, animals, and cats. The Second World — Dwarves cheapskates, princesses of all the fairy-tale countries (they are not so cute) and princes. Little fairies who prefer to eat something big and meaty on the diet. For example, kidnapped man from the first world. And bitchy mermaids. In my experience, don’t mess with them. They’ll drown you forever. Although the sirens smoke away, because these scumbags only kill children and girls. As for the Third World, it’s mine. Witches, centaurs, fairies, and other mythological entities that humans have. The fourth world — angels, demons, zodiacal representatives of signs, guardians of all sacred ravings. And of course V.E. How without it?

What do people say?

Jesus Christ?

Allah?

Buddha?

To us he is the Supreme Unity, representing the guardian and creator of all beings.

Oh yes. Forgot about the error. There are people called them? Smugglers? Oh, yes. We have the same. Only not the border of the country cross, but worlds. I was talking about worlds and stuff. Is it me? I was ten years old when my mother was taken. At that time I did not know that I would be without parents, although I always wanted to be like her. — Amy, don’t touch them, those are the last words Mom said when she had wings. I don’t know why I had such bad luck, and I was born only ninety percent taking away my father’s essence. I wanted to have wings all the time. — Emilia Mirele Fry — when my mother called me all the way, my baby heart was in my heels. She gave me a stiff thumbprint, looking tensely through the window. Waiting for my father from work, my mother was always agitated. It was as if something or someone was afraid. It was only when I was older that I realized that this was the case. I was afraid to be punished. After all, those who had given birth to a mixed spawn are punished for sins. The Supreme Unity watched over the sinful children, sending their elders. That night, in November, one of them came for Mother. As she saw huge wings, she jumped up and threw herself at me. Shaking her shoulders, a woman in tears demanded to wait for her father. My fairy opened the door, pushing me to the closet, recalling the nasty gnome. Grabbing me with his nasty hand, he dragged me under orders. At one point the usual darkness changed to a forest landscape. Opening the loopholes of barriers, he stopped at one. Strangely shrunk his nose with potatoes, deciding what to do with me. Looking for an invisible human gaze torn space. The first time I saw people, they were running on the wet pavement, vanishing somewhere. Turning my hand, the nasty cheapskate said: — She paid me very little, and as he stared at people, he began to grumble again. It was too little for me to make a mistake with nature. He should, he should — scratching his wrinkled chin with his free hand, he squeezed his wrist harder. With this force, I could hardly stand on my feet, slowly pressing my bare knees on the wet grass. — I should, the old man, pfft, said the dwarf aloud. I’ll take you to him. He’s the same. These were the last words before I entered the local monastery. I did not wait for my father, and buried this hope. The relatives are almost gone, most likely afraid to let the sin of V.E. So I was 15 at first, and then by human standards it was 103, but by our standards it was 20. But compared to my mentor I was only a foolish child. When the unknown happened, everyone looked at the door of the local church. Focusing his eyes on the young fools, the old man calmly stood up from the bench. Every day he would read us the gift given by V.E. Every day we would gather in the church, listening to his chatter. But today something happened. The sky groaned in agony, disturbing our rest. Peering out of the backs of the same guys, the only thing that caught my eye are the white wings. Angel? He came for us?! A crowd of frightened sinners started playing a broken phone, telling everyone what was happening in the ear. I heard a whisper behind me. It gave me goose bumps. No, not out of fear. I didn’t know how I felt about my friend. But I tried to regard it as a mixed cocktail of blood and origin. Comforting his heart, the friend whispered in a monotonous voice. — E was killed, this is one of the counselors of justice, trying to get information from others, the guy leaned even closer. Lifting his shoulders and blocking the way to his lips, he continued. Something happened. He fell as if the skies themselves had refused to be our home.